


Doctors without borders

by littlelostcat



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Gen, Post-Series, SGA Secret Santa Fic Exchange, Stargate Atlantis Secret Santa 2019
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-23
Updated: 2019-12-23
Packaged: 2021-02-26 17:00:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,651
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21911746
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/littlelostcat/pseuds/littlelostcat
Summary: A new doctor comes to Atlantis and Carson takes her on a tour, per usual on Atlantis something goes wrong.  Now Carson and the new doctor have to keep Ronon alive until the cavalry can find them.
Comments: 4
Kudos: 17
Collections: Stargate Atlantis Secret Santa 2019





	Doctors without borders

**Author's Note:**

  * For [PuddleJ](https://archiveofourown.org/users/PuddleJ/gifts).



> Written for the SGA Secret Santa, original prompt: Carson is my favourite character, so any stories with him as the central character would be great. I also love team fic, so long as Teyla and Ronon get an equal share of the action. I like action, slice-of-life stories. Maybe something where the characters have to rely on resources or skills that they wouldn't usually use.
> 
> No real spoilers; takes place post-series with a brief mention of Dr. Keller. 
> 
> Beta'd by a non-sga friend (although she's seen the series) who wished to remain anonymous.
> 
> There could be M/F if you want to see it, I tried to keep it ambiguous but I'm a big old romance softie ;)

In Carson’s infirmary there are seven beds, three of which he has considered installing plaques above for his frequent fliers: John Sheppard, Rodney McKay, Ronon Dex. At the moment the latter was holed up in Exam Bed 3 with one arm raised over his head and the other by his side. Blood was dripping from a “minor scratch”. 

It had needed thirteen stitches and a bandage that wrapped around the majority of his torso. 

“Aye,” Carson muttered and pulled the bandage tight, “these stitches say minor to me.”

Ronon shrugged with his good arm, “If you live from it, it’s minor.”

Carson glanced up but Ronon was focused on the nurses just beyond the exam area and felt a pang for the lad. Carson left home at eighteen, he went to university and then almost immediately joined the Stargate program. His biggest injury to date had been having his appendix removed in his twenties. Ronon, he knew, had not been so lucky and he felt the familiar rage of impotence and anger. You can’t heal old wounds, he reminded himself. But he could heal the current ones. He focused on the bandage then lowered Ronon’s scrub top to cover his work. 

Both men looked up at the knock at the door, expecting to see Sheppard leaning against the doorway Carson was pleasantly surprised to see a woman. A young woman with bright eyes that landed first on Ronon then on him. Carson glanced at Ronon and straightened. 

“Can I help you?” he asked, stepping closer, “I’m with a patient at the moment but—”

“S’okay doc,” Ronon grumbled and stretched in a way that Carson knew would test the fresh sutures. He hid his wince, barely. Ronon grabbed his shirt, bloodied and ripped from where Carson and the nurse had had to cut away, and left. At the door he nodded to the woman, “Ma’am.”

Carson bit his lip because he knew reminding Ronon to be careful and to keep the sutures dry would be wasted, but he still he had to say something. So he did. And advised Ronon’s back to take it easy as Ronon rounded the corner. Then he focused on his visitor and took a moment to look at actually her. She was pretty; dark hair tied back in a neat bun, freckles that crossed the bridge of her nose, and big dark eyes that were focused on him. She was in the usual science blue top. And now that he was looking at her, she didn’t strike him as military. 

“Dr. Beckett?” the woman asked, taking a step forward. Carson noticed the folder in her arms and nodded, extended his hand, “I’m Dr. Theresa Monroe.”

“Dr. Monroe?” He asked, confused as he washed his hands and cleaned up. “How can I help you?”

“Actually, I’m here to help you. I arrived on the Daedalus this morning but,” she nodded behind her, “I seem to have gotten lost, a few times to be honest, finding my way here.”

“I’m sorry, doctor, but I’m a tad confused. Are you a medical doctor?”

Dr. Monroe’s smile faltered then she straightened her shoulders and nodded, “Yes, I’m here to take over Dr. Keller’s duties. After she chose not to come back to Atlantis, I was reassigned as her replacement. I was—” she frowned and glanced at the folder in her hands then back at him, “I was under the impression that you knew that I was coming? General Landry said that he emailed you an updated personnel list last week.”

It came in a flash: second Tuesday of last week, a cup of coffee, finally a moment to go over emails from the SGC; there was indeed an email from General Landry; he’d just opened it when Rodney had barged into his office with Sheppard at his heels, both of them demanding blood work and tests. Because of pollen. Pollen that both men denied being exposed to but also claimed to have been experiencing side effects. Sheppard was sure it had made them … he focused back on Dr. Monroe. 

“I apologize, it’s been a busy few days.” He gestured to the bed Ronon had just vacated and decided not think about the previous pollen infestation. Or lack thereof. “I haven’t had a chance to keep up with emails. Welcome. Would you like a tour? Do you want a few days to get your bearings? More importantly, when can you start?”

“A tour would be wonderful,” Monroe laughed. She looked at the doorway again and shook her head. “I somehow ended up in a tower the first time I tried to use the transporter.”

“You mean the gate room?”

“No,” she paused, “well, I don’t think so. I haven’t been there yet either. But this room was empty . Gorgeous view.”

“You’ll be hard pressed to find a bad one around here, doctor.” Carson stepped closer and led her out of the infirmary, “Do you want to leave anything here? I’ll give you a quick tour, then we can come back and work on a schedule.”

“Theresa, please.” She set the folder on the table and nodded, “That would be great. And maybe you could give me a run down of what’s been going on. Jennifer and I didn’t get long to catch up between her interview with the IOA and the Daedalus’s departure.”

“We’ll miss her,” Carson admitted, “She was a wonderful doctor.”

“Is,” Theresa corrected. “She’s still a great doctor.”

“Aye, sorry. Yes, she is.” Chastised, Carson led Theresa down the hall towards the transporters. He explained the general layout of Atlantis and where the medical supplies were kept, how they were usually stocked by nurses or the techs but there were plenty of nights he’d spent restocking or running between medical stations. 

“So you have two infirmaries?” Theresa asked. She watched Carson wave his hand in front of the transporter and as he pressed one of the lit dots. She tried to memorize the places they visited but found herself caught up in the magic of Altantis’s technology and architecture. 

“Yes. Technically we have three. One we don’t use because it’s so far away and in part of the city that hasn’t been cleared. The second one is more of an emergency infirmary.”

“An emergency room for the emergency room?” she asked with a smile.

“We’ve needed it more than you’d think. But we try and keep our resources in the main medical wing. Here,” he said as the doors opened, “is the gate room.”

“Definitely not where I was before,” Theresa breathed. The shield over the stargate shimmered as the sun’s, or rather multiple suns’, light shone through the ancient windows. Theresa barely saw the people moving around the room, it was beyond anything she could imagine. Jennifer, she thought with a shake of her head, had undersold the Pegasus expedition in a big way. 

He continued the tour, pointing out Woolsey and Sheppard’s offices — he shook his head with a grin when Sheppard’s office was empty — then showing her the post-off-world cleaning holds and pointed to the hallway that led directly back to the medical wing. It was, he explained, a marvel that the Ancient’s had thought to create the connection because from what they’d gathered the medical wing had been a genetic and biology extension for scientists. The hallway didn’t lead to the exam level, but to the floor above and via a path that avoided the rest of the city. He led her to the science labs and introduced her to Rodney, and wasn’t surprised to find Sheppard there playing light switch. 

He was surprised, though, when one of the devices lit up in Theresa’s hand.

“Oh,” she laughed when it shook slightly in her hand. She set it back on the table and grinned over at Carson. “We don’t even think about that back on Earth. Our Ancient devices are usually DOA.”

“You have the Ancient gene?” Rodney demanded, walking towards her with tablet and stylus in hand. 

“I do, although I haven’t had much use for it.”

Before Rodney could ask another question, and Carson could see the list of questions and demands growing with each step, John grabbed his arm and pulled him towards another device. Sheppard nodded to Carson who took the sign and led Theresa towards the transporters. 

“Well. He’s certainly … intense.” Theresa said as the lab door shut behind them. 

“In Rodney’s world anyone with the Ancient gene should be at his beck and call at all hours. And he makes no secret of telling people that. Daily.”

“But doesn’t he have the gene?” Theresa wanted to know and Carson watched her trying to figure out why a man who had the gene would need others with the gene. 

“Aye, but that doesn’t stop the mad scientist from pulling in others into his lab.”

They made it back to the transporter and Theresa waved her hand in front of the controller, then both looked up when Ronon stepped in behind them. At Carson’s questioning glance he shrugged, ”Sheppard won’t let me spar until he gets the clear from you.”

“Good, then you have to wait at least a week.” Carson ignored Ronon’s sigh. “I could make it two.”

Theresa pressed the lit dot for the infirmary, glancing at Carson and waiting for his nod. “That’s what I pressed last time.”

Before Carson could answer Ronon leaned back, “They all look the same to me. Probably got it mixed up. Easy to do, especially in your first few days.”

Beside him Theresa bristled and opened her mouth, then the doors opened and they were …. well, they weren’t in the medical wing. 

Theresa groaned and took a step out. She — no, they — were where she’d gone to the first time she had tried to use the transporter. It couldn’t look good to her boss that she had gotten lost. Twice. On her first day. She glanced behind and saw Ronon with his gun out and Carson tapping at the radio at his ear.

“This bloody thing,” he cursed. Ronon stepped in front of them, gun at his side, and tapped his earpiece, calling for Sheppard. 

“Mine’s not working either,” he said shaking his head. He pointed his weapon down the hall, his back to her and Carson. 

“Is there something here?” she asked, ignoring the way her stomach tightened at the shadows. The first time she’d thought this room romantic. The hallways were dark but the room itself was lit with the setting sun. However with Ronon’s gun at the ready and Carson cursing at the transporter beside her, the romance was replaced with dread. “Or someone?”

“Don’t know,” Ronon replied quietly. “Stay behind me.”

She felt Carson’s hand at her back and instinctively she stepped closer. “Shouldn’t we go back? That’s what I did before.”

“We could,” Carson answered then trailed off at Ronon’s slight shake of his head. “Or we could not.”

Theresa looked from man to man and immediately felt a rush of foolishness. She stepped back and crossed her arms. “Or we could. I’ve already done this today and didn’t you just say I probably hit the wrong button? What are you afraid of?”

Ronon glanced back, “The dark. And you didn’t hit the wrong button.”

“Ah, what he means,” Carson cut in with a look at Ronon then looked to Theresa. He tried to remain calm even as images of the unknown flickered in his mind. “We have had some incidents within the city. Civilians aren’t supposed to explore without military chaperones.”

“And if the city sends us somewhere?”

“Never happened,” Ronon said from the hallway. Theresa glanced and watched him disappear into the shadows … which didn’t make sense. Outside and through the windows was daylight but down the hallways it was nearly pitch black. Had it been like that before?

“Aye, the transporter has malfunctioned in the past. But it shouldn’t send you somewhere else. It isn’t supposed to be able to. They are intended to send from point A to point B, not somewhere else.”

“And yet it has. Twice.”

Ronon returned and flipped a switch on the side of his gun, Carson glanced at it and Theresa bit her lip as she heard it power up. Ronon continued, “Shouldn’t’ve happened. McKay’ll want to get up here.”

Theresa stood and walked to where Ronon had just left and realized the darkness wasn’t shadow; the walls were solid and dark themselves. As she stepped in the coolness of the dark made her shiver and wrap an arm over her chest. She ran her other hand over the sides of the hallway and felt indentions of wording. Like ice, she thought. 

“Dr. Beckett, do you have a flashlight or something I can use?” she asked, taking another step in. Symbols dipped and protruded under her fingertips and she wished, not for the first time, that she could read Ancient. She added it onto her To Do list. The symbols felt familiar but she knew she couldn’t decipher them. 

Carson pulled his penlight from his pocket and handed it over and Theresa shone the light over the shapes and, finally able to see, traced them with her fingers. Carson walked to the opposite wall and felt other indentions and protrusions. 

“I wonder what this room was used for,” Theresa whispered. She flicked the light from her wall to Carson’s and back, noticing the similarities and once again annoyed that she couldn’t read it. Ronon walked into the center of the room, blaster as his side and watching the dark if he expected a wraith to slid out. 

No wraith appeared. But the lettering on the both walls began to brighten under Theresa and Carson’s touches. Theresa dropped the light and leaned closer to the wall to examine the symbols; was the wall getting hotter to the touch? Was the light getting brighter? She held a hand to her eye and stepped back, then turned in time to see a circle formed around Ronon, flickering red then blue until he fell to the ground with a scream. 

“Ronon!” Carson called out and rushed over. 

“No! Wait!” Theresa yelled. She, too, stood at the edge of the circle and watched as Ronon screamed in pain. “Don’t go in.”

“What do you mean? The man’s in pain!” Carson exclaimed. He took a step forward and looked from Ronon to Theresa. “And I’m pretty sure it’s our fault. Ancient technology has a tendency to do that around me.”

He could see blood gathering at Ronon’s shirt and cursed; the incision from the morning had split and Ronon was alternating from a curled fetal position to bowing his back at an incredible angle. Yes, Carson thought, this was their fault. The letters behind Theresa had flickered red when the circle formed, then had stayed blue when the circle did. And now they were mute. He flicked a glance up, “Stay outside of the circle. If anything happens, go get Rodney and Colonel Sheppard.”

He swallowed and prepared for the pain, just then Ronon gasped and cried out. The light remained blue as Carson crossed, a white light from above highlighted the duo as he stood and waited for the same torture. 

It didn’t come. 

Instead he knelt and tried to examine the wound at Ronon’s side, pressing lightly on the other man’s abdomen. He stopped when another pair of hands assisted him, pulling Ronon’s shirt higher and pressing the wound together. 

“I thought I told you to stay outside of the ring,” he muttered and sucked in a breath when he saw the incision. It had definitely separated. In fact, it looked like there had never been sutures. 

“You did,” Theresa said as she moved to Ronon’s head. “And nothing happened to you. Has to be something to do with the gene.” Ronon doubled over, his head raising from Theresa’s hands to his knees with another scream. ”We have to get him out of here. It’s killing him!”

Together they maneuvered Ronon outside of the circle, carefully moving and trying to avoid further harm. For Ronon’s part, he only kicked Carson once but it was enough to nearly knock the man down. Once outside the circle Carson barely noticed the circle dim and the walls flicker. But Theresa did. She pulled the radio from Carson’s ear and tapped, hoping someone would hear. 

Silence and a crackle of static sounded in her ear. 

“We need to stop the bleeding,” Carson ordered and knelt beside Ronon. “God, I need my medical table.”

Theresa knelt on the other side of Ronon and pushed back from hair from his forehead, feeling the heat of fever and sweat. “We don’t have a table, doctor, but we have two degrees and four hands between us..”

“Aye,” Carson nodded with a smile. “And this lad here still has a few lives left.” At Theresa’s confused look, he continued. “Ronon, here, has more lives than a cat in a dog house.”

He pulled his coat off and pillowed it beneath Ronon’s head, then stuck his penlight behind his ear and prayed that it stayed. Across from him Theresa pulled her white coat off and began pulling at the seams, then ripping the cloth into long strips. Soon she had a small pile of pseudo-bandages. 

“I don’t think we’ll be able to redo the sutures,” Carson began, “but we might be able to tighten the pressure of the wound. I wish we had saline or something.”

“To clean the wound,” Theresa nodded, finishing the thought. She pulled an unopened bottle of water from her coat pocket and waved it towards him. She added, “I never leave home without hydration.”

In that moment Carson could have hugged her. He grabbed the water and one of the sleeves of her tattered coat, wetted it and began to clean away the blood and debris from Ronon’s side. Dust and who-knows-what surrounded them and he would be damned if Ronon got an infection from this. They worked in silence: one pouring water while the other cleaned the wound, one applying pressure while the other wrapped around Ronon’s torso, one assessing his fever and vitals while the other kept the wound tight and kept Ronon focused and conscious. Without thinking Carson reached across and grabbed his earpiece from Theresa and tapped again, a last attempt before one of them would have to go and try the transporter. Ronon was stable … or, at least, more stable than he’d been in the circle but he wouldn’t stay that way for long. 

“Carson, where the hell are you?!” Rodney’s voice sounded in his ear. Carson didn’t cry but Lord Almighty he wanted to. 

“We’re in one of the towers, Rodney. The transporter was malfunctioning. We need a medical unit here STAT.”

“What??” Carson could hear Rodney running now and prayed the others could find them. 

“Aye, Ronon’s incision reopened. We need to get him back in surgery. Rodney,” he looked down at Ronon, “hurry.”

He didn’t hear the whoosh of the transporter or curse above him. It was Theresa who let out a breath, “Thank god.”

Carson looked up then and pressed down on Ronon’s wound, ensuring that it was secure. Sheppard was already beside him assessing and looking around the room, Rodney glanced at Ronon as he hooked his tablet up to an opening in the wall. 

“Is he…” Rodney asked, not finishing the thought and focusing on the tablet. Carson wanted to sigh, instead he let out a breath of relief when the medical team came with a back board and stretcher. 

“I won’t be losing a patient today,” Carson answered. “Alright lads, we need to get him on the stretcher without too much trauma to the wound.” He nodded to the makeshift bandage and moved to his legs. “On three we roll and move, Theresa, luv, stay at his head. Do the count.”

She nodded and kept Ronon’s head and neck securely between her hands, she smiled down at him and nodded to Carson and the others. “On three,” she stated. “One. Two. Three.”

The four of them — one soldier, one medic, and two physicians — rolled Ronon onto his good side while another medic slid the board beneath him. Then they rolled him back and settled him on the stretcher. Carson wasn’t sure how Sheppard and the others found them, he thought he heard Rodney say something about his subQ tracking device but his focus was Ronon. 

The surgery lasted just under and hour, Theresa by his side while he stitched the familiar line of Ronon’s stomach and watched his vitals slowly return to normal as the fluids and medications did their job. This time, he swore, he was keeping the Satedan on bedrest - in the infirmary - for 48 hours. He stood at the entrance of Bed 3 and watched Ronon rest. 

“So,” Theresa asked from beside him, “do all of your tours end with patients in emergency surgery? Or is that something you save for new doctors?”

Carson laughed, letting the fear and worry out with each breath. “I told you, we get busy here.”

“Well, perhaps I can buy you a drink?” Theresa asked with a smile. “And you can tell give me some updates on those busy days.”

“Aye, a drink would be lovely. And I promise we won’t have any more emergency patients.”

“Today,” Theresa corrected. 

“No, no more emergency patients today.” He led her down the hall and neither even thought about pausing at the transporter, “Tomorrow, though, AR-2 is scheduled to go off-world. I guarantee Simmons or Parrish will return with an injury.”

They walked down a set of stairs that Theresa thought led to the commissary, “Dr. Beckett, you certainly know how to treat a lady on her first day in a new galaxy.”

“You should see how I am on your first weekend.”

Theresa grinned, “Looking forward to it.”


End file.
